Happy Thanksgiving!

This weekend I was able to take a day off and make a trip to Canton, Mississippi (birthplace of the Miss Bettie Walker - or mom as I like to call her). Thanksgiving Day started off with me sleeping in. Here in the Delta the weather is similar to a Midwest mid-fall. The air was crisp and the sun was gleaming. I sat in my dining room reading the paper with a big cup of coffee. Of course I got a bit too caught up in the ambiance of the day and found myself rushing to get out of the door and on the road so I wouldn't miss my aunt's 2:30 dinner. Is it me or does "dinner" in the south begin around lunchtime? Anyway, I packed, hit the road, and headed to my Aunt Alice's house. My aunt likes to cook so listing all of her menu items would take up too much blog space. Suffice it to say in addition to the six (yes six) pies she baked (12 of us were present for dinner) dinner was excellent! I spent the next four days lounging around my aunts house. She has a room in her home that I call the yellow room where I love to lodge. The room has a huge window, a couch, television with dish access, and a private bathroom. I love this room not because its yellow (pink's my color) but because - as you can tell from the description - it is very much like a hotel. I like to think I spent the weekend eating great food and relaxing at the Hotel Alize!

Another Visit to the Bulldog

Again I have fallen a week behind on post. Here is a short update on from the week I missed. I had the wonderful opportunity to attend a consortium regarding the Mississippi Delta. I had a second opportunity to visit the Social Science Research Center at Mississippi State. There, multiple partners had gathered in an effort to brainstorm ways to genuinely assist the Delta. Sustainable, community-led development was the goal of the consortium. Over two days many academics, foundation members, research students, and program directors hashed out the challenges of the Delta, discussed current programs, and came up with a plan of action that would enable a broad yet deep assistance to the region.

NOLA

I spent this past weekend attending a conference in New Orleans, Louisiana. The purpose of the conference was to assist in the building of a nationwide coalition of college students, graduate and undergraduate, committed to the just and equitable rebuilding of the coastal communities hit by Hurricane Katrina. As a part of the conference, attendees visited a green house built in the lower ninth ward. Elements of social, political, economic, and environmental development were tied together to give participants a greater idea of what equitable development should look like in Katrina-marred areas versus what it actually looks like. What was communicated at the conference as immediately needed was the dissemination of accurate information regarding the social, political, economic, and environmental development of these areas. Many of the hardest hit areas are not receiving adequate funding. Much of this is due to political power play. Federal dollars have been allocated without oversight. Many of the hardest hit residents feel there is an intentional reshaping of New Orleans going on in the rebuilding that is not remniscent of the city pre-Katrina.

It was difficult to put all of this information into context with the realities of the French Quarter and Warehouse District where I was lodging. In contrast to the city's other wards, the famous/infamous Quarter and Warehouse District were bubbling tourists havens. I'd been to NO several times before but had never seen the city like this. The French Quarter and Warehouse District boasted vibrant mom-and-pop shops, numerous chef-inspired restaurants, Americanized European-styled architecture, and of course, music. There is a spirit unique to the city. After visiting I can better understand how amidst all of the remaining debris, the sulfuric political rhetoric, the injustices, and the seemingly intended pollution of every kind, lifelong residents continue to trickle back and rebuild.

Some of the pics include the quaint side streets of New Orleans' French Quarter and the Green House built in the ninth ward. As an aside, I ate enough during this weekend for all of those reading this blog but were not in the NOLA. Thanks Emeril, Lucy's, the Praline Shop, and numerous other vendors for your gastric support ;)

New Orleans proved to be if not the "Most Unique City" that it claims to be, then certainly one of the most unique places I've ever visited. Long live NOLA!

A Call to Conscience

The Delta has slowed to a home-like pace. I've learned the short-cuts and back-ways to my favorite places. I've gained that familiarity with the area that makes one say, "I don't even remember how I got here" after shifting the car into 'park'. Nevertheless, the pace of change in the world has not slowed. The presidential baton has been passed and the Dow has dived. Our national conviction in our powerful economic system has shaken our confidence, and for some, given us the down right shake-down. In the wake of these changes, economic and social disparities abound. While commentators opine on which avenue, the re-enforcement of our staid power brokers or the assistance of our every-day, will best lead us to stability, words to wisdom can be gleaned from a 1967 address Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. made to the SCLC. The pace of life here in the Delta has allowed me the time to read some of Dr. King's key speeches. So, while like is slow down here, hopefully this reflection will give all of you out there some insight into our current, fast-paced, ever-changing times. Enjoy.

"There is nothing wrong with power if power is used correctly. You see, what happened is that some of our philosophers got off base. And one of the great problems of history is that the concepts of love and power have usually been contrasted as opposites, polar opposites, so that love is identified with a resignation of power, and power with a denial of love. It was this misinterpretation that caused the philosopher Nietzche, who was a philosopher of the will to power, to reject the Christian concept of love. It was this same misinterpretation which induced Christian theologians to reject Nietzsche's philosophy of the will to power in the name of the Christian idea of love.
Now we got to get this thing right. What is needed is a realization that power without love is reckless and abusive, and that love without power is sentimental and anemic. Power at its best is love implementing the demands of justice, and justice at its best is love correcting everything that stands against love. And this is what we must see as we move on."

-- MLK "Where Do We Go From Here?"

Bienvenido a Miami

The last couple of weeks have been hectic. I've fallen behind on my post. But not to worry, the old, reliant Miranda is back. Usually I update this blog on the weekends -- Saturday's or Sunday's. The last couple of weekends I have been out of town. I did, however, want to make sure that on my final October blog I posted proof of my absences as both corroboration and celebration. On October 18th I attended the wedding of Ternesha and James B. The city, the party, and of course, the wedding were beautiful. Included in this blog are pictures of myself and my escort, Demetrius as well as a pic of the newly declared MARRIED couple! enjoy.

Ground Zero

I don't want to leave anyone confused -- I absolutely love my work here in the Delta -- but almost as good is the work is the play. On a trip to Clarksdale I stopped by Ground Zero, a blues bar owned by Morgan Freeman.

I had a 'Voodoo Burger". I was a little skeptical of a burger called "voodoo". Nevertheless, I loved it. So, for those of you who don't have the chance to play at Ground Zero here's your chance. Try a burger, well done, and add Monterrey Jack Cheese and bacon to the top. Cover the bottom with pesto -- yes pesto. It's excellent. Pics are included -- enjoy.

One Thousand Words

A picture is worth a thousand words -- but sometimes a thousand is not enough. On October 1, I had the opportunity to travel to Leland, Mississippi to conduct an interview. The interviewee was a Mr. Robert Hitt Neil, author, radio personality, and general southern character. Mr. Neil invited JR and myself out to his home for the interview followed by a "Jungle Lunch". JR was given driving directions, but once again, GPS did not save the day. We stopped at a Mennonite woman's house for directions. She graciously met us in our vehicle, so as her grizzly bear-sized dog would not attack us, then pointed us approximately one block up the street -- a point we had passed previously. Mr. Neil asked us to meet him at the swimming hole which was the first thing JR and I spotted on our back peddling trek. We pulled off the main road into a scene unrepeatable for any cinematic set designer. Mr. Neil resides on the farm his family has owned and managed for generations. The swimming hole, replete with a dock and a knotted rope attached to a tree from which divers could dangle through the air over the water, sat adjacent to grand house where Mr. Neil, with his wife, now live. The doorways in the home seemed to stretch well beyond conventional 10 and 12 foot ceilings. Directly behind the house was Mrs. Neil's workshop -- the former commissary for the sharecroppers who once helped work the land. Inside, an old money vault along with boxes and bottles of the probably-common household items of sharecroppers, silently told stories of a past. Of course, none of these stories compared to the ones Mr. Neil actually told -- stories of escaped convicts, the building of levees, baseball, Lyndon Johnson, the toll of mechanization on southern farmers, the reasons he shoots computers -- as opposed to clay disks-- on his range, and egg-sucking dogs & angel food cake. After the stories, the tour, and the interview, Mr. Neil treated us to lunch at a table next to the swimming hole. Our "Jungle Lunch" consisted of sardines, Vienne sausages, smoked clams in the can, crackers, Pringles, and cheese. Though I've never eaten a sardine, to avoid Mr. Neil's chants of "you're such a girl!", I took the challenge. I can't say the same for JR -- but he's a big boy -- I'm sure he can endure Mr. Neil's accusation of "sissy". At the end of the afternoon, Mr. Neil insisted that we take a look at his miracle tree. According to Mr. Neil, lightening struck the tree decades ago leaving the top half of the tree in the yard and the bottom of the tree hollow and dead. As a kid, he and his friend would climb the tree looking to tap the honey of nesting bees. A seed soon embedded itself in the honey and proceeded to grow. The branches of the new tree entwined with the old tree. The roots of the new tree attached itself to the root system of the old tree extracting water from the nearby swimming hole. Without knowledge of their pasts, one would find the two trees indistinguishable. Mr. Neil explained that this was analogous to man's relationship with God. I went to the car, completely enthralled with the surreal sights and experiences of my day, to grab my camera from my bag but it was missing. JR and I said our goodbyes and headed back to Cleveland. Upon our return I headed home for a real lunch. I searched my apartment for my camera, but could not find it. I looked again in my bag and found it. I had moved it to a different pouch in order to protect the lens. I'd had it the entire time. Initially my disorganization frustrated me, but as I thought more about it I realized that I hadn't missed anything. Though a picture may be worth a thousand words, sometimes a thousand is not enough. A picture can only capture what is within its frame. My experiences in Leland were too big to be framed, too big to be captured. The best vault for their storage is the film of my own imagination.

Are We There Yet?

This marks the second week JR & I have spent conducting interviews throughout the Delta. Monday we traveled to Greenwood, Mississippi. I had visited Greenwood earlier during a staff team-building exercise and fell in love with the town. Viking was founded, and now operates, out of Greenwood. The results of its founder creating and keeping his company in this Delta town are incredible. As I may have mentioned in an earlier blog, Greenwood is home to the Alluvian Hotel. The Alluvian is a four diamond hotel located in the heart of Greenwood's downtown. The storefronts around the area have been refurbished and filled. Chef inspired restaurants dot the streets. There are wonderful old homes that line the main boulevard. Greenwood has an 'old town' feel with modern amenities. JR & I were in Greenwood to interview a woman, Lise, that serves as Greenwood's Community Project Manager. The interview went well. Afterwards, JR & I decided to roam around a bit. JR is from a small town outside of Greenwood. Currently, his parents live in Greenwood. This left me feeling like I had a great opportunity to get to know Greenwood with a knowledgeable tour guide -- that and JR has GPS. First we decided to stop in Money, Mississippi -- the home of Emmitt Till's uncle and the starting point of that notorious tragedy. I snapped a picture of the now dilapidated store where the tragedy began. On our way back to Cleveland, we decided to stop for a soda. Out of the middle of a cotton field appeared a row of shacks and what appeared to be a store. JR made a u-turn and turned onto the dirt and gravel road, past the shacks, and to the store. Upon parking we were met by an older man who took a seat on a church pew located on the store's porch. We came to learn that we had not stumbled upon on a store, rather, we had stumbled upon Tallahatchie Flats -- a collection of shacks refurbished to resemble turn-of-the-century sharecropper's quarters'. Mister Bubba, as the man introduced himself, was the manager. People from around the world, according to Mister Bubba, had visited and rented the shacks. After a long conversation JR & I moved on to find another 'store' for our much awaited soda. According to JR, the Mississippi native, there was a short-cut located just off the highway that would cut our time back to Cleveland. He plugged in his GPS and we broke from the highway. Now I don't have GPS, never used it, but I'm pretty sure when the screen shows the car moving off the red lines and into the abyss of charter-less brown we're lost. We kept on down the road, around the corner, deeper into the cotton, past some houses, past some trailers, past some shacks, beyond a barn, beyond a tractor, beyond the pavement. Finally, we ended up in the middle of a field where the now dirt road just ended. After backtracking we found ourselves back on the highway. We finally found the country store we were looking for -- Sander's Grocery. We stopped and got sodas and candy bars. However, these were not our only options. This particular country store, in addition to soda, also sold hot breakfast platters, deli-sliced meat, worms for fishing, relaxer kits, oil sheen, and more. Finally, we returned to Cleveland full of information and experiences.

A Visit to Indianola

One of the projects the Institute for Community-Based Research is working on is an assessment of the food systems throughout the Mississippi Delta. JR (Brother Love) and I are working on the initial research and reporting of this project on two levels: JR on the macro level and me on the micro level. JR will perform a general assessment collecting data from the 12 counties in the Delta while my research will be more pointed -- focussing specifically on the city of Cleveland. The two of us, however, have found so much interest in local food, local markets, and their advocates that we decided to work together during interviews, surveys, and focus groups. The last two weeks have been spent laying much of the groundwork for this assessment. Surveys, interview questions, and focus group preparations have consumed most of my workdays. Friday, however, brought about some of the first relationship-building, roll-your-sleeves-up, grassroots kind of research we were anticipating. After a coffee and a granola bar JR and I headed out to Indianola for our first interview. There we met with Kate, a project director at the Indianola Chamber of Commerce, and Maggie, the Indianola Farmers' Market manager. The interview went well and was followed by a pleasant exchange of ideas and encouragement. Back in the car JR and I both noted the amazing dynamic in the room and the potential that it had if harnessed and exported. We also noted that that same dynamic was probably noted by Kate and Maggie as well. So there you have it -- a meeting on an 80 degree, Mississippi Friday morning between blacks & whites, men & women, political conservatives & liberals (guess which one was me!?!), Mississippi natives & newcomers -- engaging in grassroots work to increase social and economic access and foster advancement.



*** On a side trip, JR & I visited the BB King Museum which just opened in Indianola. The museum's home is the former site of the cotton gin where BB once worked. Unbeknownst to me, JR is a huge BB fan and attended the museum opening the week before. This weeks pics are from that site. Enjoy!

Constitution Day

Short entree: This past Thursday Delta State University hosed a presentation for its annual Constitution Day. The speaker was Douglas A. Blackmon author of 'Slavery by Another Name'. While I was in Minneapolis, working downtown at the YMCA, I would often find myself wondering around in the 30-minutes to an hour I had between work and catching my bus. One Monday (the Library is closed on Monday's) a book at Barnes & Noble caught my eye. The cover was catching so I walked back to see the title. My interest was only in the design but in pulling it from the shelf I noticed the subtitle, 'The Re-enslavement of Black Americans from the Civil War to WWII'. I read the description then perused the pages. The pictures were amazing so I had to start reading. Everyday I would go to the book store and read the book. When I saw the posters around town I ordered the book and cleared my schedule. Here are some pics taken after the presentation. Mr. Blackmon was kind enough to sign my book and take a photo with me.

I'll pass on a idea Mr. Blackmon shared during the presentation and take time here to suggest reading the book.
-- When one considers that Lincoln did not end slavery, the arguments that 'blacks should move on' or 'get over it -- it's been 150 years' must be re-examined. Slavery did not end 150 years ago. At its earliest, slavery ended in the 1940's -- 60 years ago. When you also consider that equal rights were not recognized and/or protected by law until the 1970's with equal housing rights and protections, the advancement of blacks can be put into context. It is not longer a frustration with how much catching up must be done, rather an amazement at the velocity of achievement.

Brother Love!

This morning I attended the Spangled Banner Church -- upon invitation. The Spangled Banner is a white-framed gem situated in the bend of a gravel road in Pace, Mississippi. The church sits on a picturesque seat canopied by huge old trees. I actually missed the church initially. The church van was parked in someone's driveway. It wasn't actually a driveway, rather the front on someone's trailer. I thought to myself, 'there is no way I'm going in if church is in this trailer'. Luckily, I man on the street gave me directions and it wasn't to the trailer. The church was much as I had imagined a small, black, country, Baptist church would be. The building was short and narrow with windows lining the longer walls. The initial white outside double doors led to a small foyer which proceeded another set of brown plywood double doors. Of course I got caught in the foyer during a prayer -- a small, black, country, Baptist church prayer. Fifteen minutes later the doors opened and I found my friend and colleague Mr. JR Love waiting in a pew for me. The story ends here -- at least the story of the Spangled Banner. The Spangled Banner is the third church in the Delta that I've visited. It's special, as all of the churches have been, but this story is more about Brother Love. JR and I are working on similar projects for the Institute for Community-Based Research. Six weeks ago one could not have convinced me I'd be sitting in the Spangled Banner with Brother Love. JR hails from rural Mississippi -- born and raised. He's a Mississippi State grad and, I think, a Republican. He's also white. And not 'down-with-the-homies' white either. One day at work, while we were talking about churches, JR mentioned the Spangled Banner. Now, in my mind I knew that sounded like a black church (and so do you) so I sort of snickered. He picked it up right away and acknowledged that is was indeed an all black church and he invited me. I didn't know how serious he was about the invitation but over the next couple of weeks he kept mentioning the Spangled Banner. He went to church on Sunday, sunday school, Wednesday night prayer meeting.... I kept thinking 'who is this white boy' and, simultaneously, 'how interesting'. Of course, he couldn't escape the wise cracks which is where he got the nickname 'Brother Love'. So here I am, in the Mississippi Delta, home of some of the nations most tension-filled racial relationships, attending this small, black, rural church with my brother -- Brother Love. How picturesque.

A Slow Week

As time progresses and I grow more comfortable in both my position as a VISTA and as a resident of Cleveland my weeks become more and more "normal". This week certainly qualified as "normal". Of course "normal" doesn't preclude learning. I had an opportunity to attend a conference in Tunica, MS on Monday. Most of my learning from Tunica centered around the piecing together of an effective board and networking. Beyond that -- it was business as usual. I was scheduled to attend a two-day conference in Jackson, MS however Ike postponed that meeting. On Saturday I served as a "Friend of the Farmers' Market" here in Cleveland. The farmers' market is an important element of my work and should be considered work however I frequently find myself looking forward to market days for both the insight and the comaraderie. I've included some pics from the Cleveland Farmers' Market.

Go Away Gustav!

It's been awfully rainy here in the Delta. Mississippi avoided a direct hit to the gulf, however, rain bands from the system have radiated to greet us. Though it's been wet I can't complain. I would much rather deal with showers than floods. It did dry up just in time for the weekend here in Cleveland. From 8 am until 10 am, starting in June and running through November, Cleveland hosts a farmers' market. Because the focus of my work here is food security, I try to make it to the market to gauge community support, converse with my Institute co-workers, and mainly, to fellowship with the vendors. It's interesting that something as simple as a farmers' market can have such an impact on community. Two weeks ago I missed the market and felt genuinely out of touch. The market, as I've found, is also a great place for poor VISTA's like myself to pick up some free food items. My first week out Jesse, a vendor and colleague, gave me some pesto. This week Miss Holland let me take home an entire pecan pie! Following this week's market I attended a children's literacy fair. The fair was held in Mound Bayou, Mississippi which holds claim to being the first black founded and governed municipality. The town has quite a history -- check it out on-line. Unfortunately, the rich history of the town is muted by the painfully evident decay that has taken place. Before the fair, I had visited the town with one of its former residents. He left out the encyclopedic history and told me his own. However, it was clear from the towns aesthetic that something both great and tragic had taken place here. The fair was more work than I'd anticipated. My plan was to pass out books and chill but, smelling my newness, I was lassoed into face painting. Now granted, this was a children's event. But are kids allowed to critique the volunteer "artist"? Your name in bubble letters outlined in alternating colors offset from a whimsical rainbow background is not exactly a request for a volunteer. Nevertheless, I had fun and came away with a book of my own.


Work remains interesting and full. I had the wonderful opportunity to travel with my boss and his colleague to Mississippi State University to attend a presentation at their community research facilities. I was also introduced to the director of this group, Dr. Cosby, who was incredibly energetic and impressive in both his work and his generosity to me. The facilities devoted to community research and MSU were incredible.

Other than that, much is the same. I continue to enjoy the Delta and all of the new people I am meeting. Take care and see you next week.

PICS: (above) closed hospital in Mound Bayou; (center) literacy fair; (bottom) historic signage in front of hospital introducing town

Finally, some pics!

Here are some pictures of my new home town -- Cleveland, Mississippi! Enjoy. The pics begin with some shots of 'downtown', segue into some notable buildings, and end with an 'every-town' staple. Enjoy the video & the audio. However, the quality is better if you go to youTube and search Cleveland Slide Show. Make sure to click just below the video on "watch in high quality". Again, enjoy!

Cradle of American Culture

Last Tuesday we had our staff retreat at The Center.  The previous week we were sent an email indicating our placement on one of three teams.  I lucked onto the orange team with Helen (uh hmm, I forgot I wasn't in Minneapolis anymore -- retraction: Miss Helen), Ryan, Cherylynn, Chiquikta, and Miss Moore.  We weren't given any instructions other than to meet at The Center at 8 a.m. sharp.  At 8 all three teams gathered for instructions.  We were told we would be spending the day competing in the "Great Delta Race".  Each team was assigned a driver, a journal keeper (me), and a photographer and then told to grab a collectable Delta Heritage Calendar and their first three clues.  I grabbed the calendar and my team headed to Chiquikta's car.  From there we picked up our official team van.  However, my team had a handicap: Miss Moore, the Director of The Center, was in a meeting and we had to wait twenty minutes for her.  At 8:30 we finally got on the road -- 30 minutes behind the blue team and 10 minutes ahead of the red team that had to wait on teammate also.  Our first clue lead us to the grave site of Fannie Lou Hamer in Ruleville, MS.  About 15 minutes into the drive I realized I had forgotten the calendar in the first car.  As the new person this was the last thing I needed.  Ryan, however, remembered he had seen a calendar at a nearby restaurant.  We made a small detour and grabbed the calendar.  Our second clue took us to Glendora, MS, the death place of Emmitt Till and home to a bed and breakfast that housed famous bluesmen.  The game changed for all of us in Glendora.  There we met the owner of the B&B and the town's mayor.  We visited the shack where Till's killers lived and the gin where they stole the 70 lb fan used to weigh his body down.  From there we traveled to the nearby town were the trial was held and visited the courthouse.  

Our next clues had to picked-up somewhere on some county road.  I started to get a little nervous as we approached Parchman Prison.  Luckily, we didn't stop there.  Somewhere in between a cotton field and a soybean field we picked-up our last three clues.  Part of the "Great Race" took us to a lecture at Mississippi Valley State with a professor and blues authority.  My orange team picked up some extra credit here.  Apparently, during the Vietnam War, Valley students protested.  The state police arrested every protester and sent them all to the notorious Parchman Prison.  The then university president had to use university funds to bail all of the students out of Parchman and then bought them all one-way tickets out of town.   Clue #4 took us to Greenwood.  I fell in love with the architecture of the town.  Outside of Greenwood was one of the three alleged gravesites of blues legend Robert Johnson.  Under the tree of this tiny Baptist church was the headstone with plane ticket stubs etc. from visitors.  At 1 p.m. all three teams met at the Viking test kitchen which is headquartered in Greenwood.  We cooked and ate pork, biscuits (of course), and pecan pie.  Next we stopped at the Alluvian Hotel.  Who knew Mississippi, let alone Greenwood, had a world-ranked hotel (top-100, that is).  After the Alluvian we hit our final stop: Brownsville.  Apparently this town, Brownsville, was named after several former slaves and sharecroppers moved in (ain't that a mess).  The town's claim to fame is its well which was dug for the purpose of providing the black school children clean drinking water in the new community-built school. 

After fulfilling clue #6 all three teams had to return their van and have all of their clues, facts, and photos in by 4:30.  The orange team, which has slid into last place by lunch., slipped into the door and exactly 4:30 with the other teams waiting (and laughing) at us.  Unbeknownst to them, we had collected all of the clues and both extra credit points.  The next day when the winners were announced guess who came out on top!?!  Slow and steady wins the race.  

This ended up being one of the best staff/team building retreats I have ever participated in.  I got an opportunity to know my office mates.  I also got a chance to see Mississippi unlike I'd seen it in any of the previous 40+ trips I've made in my life.  Mississippi certainly holds its own as its claim as the birthplace of American culture.  

Down In the Delta

It's hard to pinpoint exactly when this journey began -- when I got accepted into the AmeriCorp program, when the truck came to take all my stuff, when I started training/orientation, my first day on the job, or when my stuff finally arrived.  Unfortunately, because my move unfolded in that convoluted order, I don't know exactly when I arrived.  Needless to say, my move started off a little shakey.  I left Minneapolis knowing only that at 8:00 a.m., August 11, I was supposed to start working.  Some might say I stepped out on faith -- others might call it something else;)  Anyway, I started work on Monday morning, signed a lease with Johnny (my 19-yr-old landlord)Monday afternoon (Johnny Walker that is; yeah -- I thought that too), slept on the floor in the empty apartment with the 'rents Monday night, got my furniture on Tuesday, and got a car on Wednesday.  Whew.  Since then life in the Delta has been, well, slow.  Even though I am technically on-call 24/7, I work Monday through Friday, 8 to 5, like the average Joe.  

Cleveland is a wonderful town.  The university here, Delta State University, has about 5000 students.  It is not the largesse of the U of M -- which is in and of itself special.  I work for the Institute for Community-Based research with is housed out of, and partnered with, the Center for Community and Economic Development (CCED).  The CCED, in turn, is an extension of Delta State.  What that means to you (the reader): not much.  What it means to me: I have three too many bosses.  But that matters little because I enjoy the work (at least so far -- in these first 2 weeks).  My focus over the next year will concern researching, evaluating, and presenting causes and solutions to food insecurity in the Delta.  Cleveland sits in the second poorest Congressional District in the country, so this issue is pressing not just for researchers and local activist, but especially for those most severely affected.  

Reading and researching literature and methodology over the past 2 weeks has kept me rather busy.  However, I have had some time for socializing.  There is definitely something to be said about southern hospitality.  Folks have been very open, warm, and genuinely friendly toward me -- beyond just simple manners.  I have been to multiple homes for either lunch or dinner and still have multiple invitations to homes, events, and churches to fulfil.  So far, if there is anything I want to take back up the river at the conclusion of this year is that sense of hospitality.  

Well stay posted.  There is more to come.  And check back regularly -- at least monthly -- and share with your friends and family.  I'll need all the advice and encouragement a can get. Take care & stay posted.